He stood there and sighed heavily, savoring a brief moment to gather his thoughts.
Regardless of his accolades and the success of his book.
Those thoughts of his Father, being gone from this world haunted him.
The inconvenient truth that he would never have the opportunity to hold the book that he inspired his son to write, was paralytic at best.
He shuddered as a searing pain buffeted him in waves and the tears that started as a trickle – became a deluge that his eyes were powerless to restrain, while the cold wind wasted no time changing his tears to salty icicles glistening on his cheeks.
There he stood, sobbing uncontrollably, until he collapsed onto his knees.
Wailing mournfully on the banks of the river.
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